


pourquoi tu gaches ta vie?

by polly_perks



Category: Psych
Genre: Bisexual Shawn, Bisexuality, Character Study, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Friendship, Gen, Growing Up, M/M, no one is straight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-30 07:42:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8524414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polly_perks/pseuds/polly_perks
Summary: At the sophomore semi-formal he saw Emily Chapman and Laura Fiske slow-dancing under the basketball hoop; not spinning around the room and giggling as friends sometimes would, but slowly, like a couple. It wouldn't be much longer until he figured out why watching them made him feel like something was missing.





	

**Author's Note:**

> yet another coming out fic by yours truly! the surprises never end
> 
> title comes from "elle me dit" by MIKA and translates into "why are you wasting your life?"

It was their 37th sleepover by Shawn’s estimate, not counting those they’d had when they were too young to remember, and it had gone just as every single other: watching a movie (this time, Die Hard) during which they each ate their own medium Domino’s pizza (Gus carefully saving half of his for breakfast the next morning, Shawn inhaling the whole thing before Gus had even had two slices); trying to avoid Henry seeing them sneak into the kitchen for extra dessert (it never worked); and finally lying side-by-side on the floor in Shawn’s bedroom swapping secrets.

At this point, there were very few left to share; Gus had to default to a story his mother had told him about how he’d swallowed an eraser when he was seven. “She said I wouldn’t stop crying because I thought it had poisoned me and I would die. Can you imagine?”

“Of course I can. I could imagine you doing that tomorrow.”

“Hey!” Shawn rolled away before Gus could smack him on the shoulder.

“Anyway, it’s your turn.” He rolled back and rested his chin on crossed arms.

Before he could say the one about trying to steal a bullet from his dad’s gun that he’d been saving up, he blurted “I think Jimmy Connell is cute.”

“What?” Shawn’s mouth had gone dry and he could hear the blood rushing through his ears but it was too late. “Like cute in the way I think girls are cute. Does that make sense?”

 _No_ , Gus thought. “Sure,” he said. “I mean, I just would have thought that Daniel from homeroom would be more your type. That’s why I said ‘what.’”

Shawn could tell he was over-explaining, trying to sound casual to hide his confusion. He preferred the effort over any of the other reactions that had whizzed through his head after he’d spoken initially. He found himself breathing deeply, the way Henry had told him would slow his heart rate (in case he ever needed to pretend to be asleep had been the justification, but it helped here too.)

“It’s your turn again.” 

* * *

“Shawn, dude, you need to come back to the gym.” Gus addressed the boy’s bathroom at large, knowing Shawn was there but not wanting to check each stall for him.

“Why? And how did you know I’d be in here?”

“All the other doors are locked. This is the only possible place for you to hide.”

Shawn swung open the door to one of the middle stalls and faced Gus. He’d only agreed to come to the junior semi-formal because Abigail would be going, but she’d spent the whole night surrounded by her friends and there was no way he’d approach the whole group of them. So instead he’d opted to mope in a stall in the bathroom with a comic book he’d stolen from Gus’ room as they were getting ready.

“They’re playing the last song in a few minutes. This is your chance with Abigail!” Gus smacked him lightly on the shoulder as he said it, trying to be encouraging. Shawn shrugged and followed him back to the gym. Most of Abigail’s friends had boyfriends, so she’d probably be alone; despite this fairly strong ray of hope, he’d gotten so used to moping that at this point he was kind of stuck that way.

It turned out to be for good reason; he scanned the whole gym three times but couldn’t see Abigail at all. He leaned against the bleachers and watched Gus try to ask out a girl who, even seen from a distance, was definitely not interested in him.

On his fourth scan of the gym, he noticed something else: Emily Chapman and Laura Fiske were slow-dancing under a basketball hoop. Not spinning around the room and giggling as friends sometimes would; Laura’s hands were around Emily’s waist and they were swaying gently, just like all the other couples scattered around the gym.

Shawn quickly looked away, not wanting to be caught staring. He kept looking around the gym, but watched them out of the corner of his eye the whole time. At 17, slow-dancing with a classmate was hardly the huge deal it had been in junior high, but watching Laura rest her head on Emily’s shoulder somehow felt more intimate than walking in on a different pair of his classmates making out in the projector room above the auditorium.

He laced the fingers of his right hand with his left and squeezed his own palm. He looked back at them once more, and Emily smiled shyly at him from across the room. 

* * *

 

“Hey, Gus,” Shawn began, lying on the floor with his legs propped up against his friend’s bed. “Do you have a date to prom yet?”

He managed to affect a casual tone well enough that only his parents would have been able to tell he’d been building up to the question for the past half-hour.

“No, but I’m thinking of asking Jenny. You know, the girl from our physics class?”

“I don’t, but mostly because I haven’t been to physics since October.” Gus nodded in agreement. He was rifling through his closet, trying to pick out what tie he would wear despite the fact that prom was in over three months. Shawn couldn’t believe he had so many ties already at eighteen.

“Why do you ask?” Shawn licked his lips and was glad Gus couldn’t see him. He’d chosen to lie on the floor on purpose, so that any nervous tic would be less noticeable due to it being upside-down.

He was thinking like his dad, he knew, and he hated it.

“I was thinking, uh, if neither of us have dates by the time prom rolls around…” try as he might he couldn’t stop his left foot from tapping against his right with nervous energy. “...maybe we could, like, go together? Just if neither of us have dates.”

“As friends?”

Shawn scoffed nervously. “Uh, yeah, obviously as friends. Duh.”

Gus had picked out two and was holding them up to his face in front of the mirror. “Well, if Jenny turns me down, I’m going to ask Elana, Carol, Susan, and Emily, in that order, so you’d be on a long waiting list.”

Shawn opened his mouth to say that Emily wasn’t a good idea, but reconsidered. “I’m fine with that.”

Gus shrugged and tossed both ties back into the closet. “It’s a deal then.”

* * *

Susan had said yes the week before prom, leaving Shawn with only a week to find a date. When Gus asked him about why he’d taken so long, he’d waved his hand and said something about being able to get any girl at any time.

He had, actually, found someone, and she’d been as uninterested as he had. She left as soon as photos were taken so Shawn spent most of the night raiding the snack table, scanning his eyes all around the gym, pointedly not looking at Gus trying--and failing--to make conversation with Susan over the speakers. At least she was dancing with him.

At some point during the night, Emily leaned against the snack table next to him and sipped her punch quietly. He appreciated the company.

* * *

“Hey, Mom, what’s up?” Shawn tucked the phone between his shoulder and his ear and continued searching for everything he’d need to make pasta. So far all he had was the pasta, still on the counter along with his other two bags of unpacked groceries.

“Does a mother really need an excuse to call her only son? I just wanted to check in, see how you like the new place.”

“It’s fine, although there’s way less furniture than there was when I last visited.”

“Well, that’s usually what happens when people move out of an apartment. They take their stuff with them.”

They both laughed, but Shawn trailed off quickly when he saw his barren living room and remembered that an inflatable mattress was all he had in his bedroom.

“Aside from that, though, is everything fine? Faucets all work? Do you have enough cabinet space in the kitchen--”

“It’s fine, mom, really. In fact, I’d say I have too much cabinet space.” He closed another one, still not having found the pot large enough to make pasta. In five minutes, he told himself, he’d give up and make the microwaveable ramen he’d had the foresight to purchase.

She laughed again. “I’m not even sure I want to know what you mean by that.”

Shawn shifted the phone from his right shoulder to his left, so he missed the first part of what his mother said next. “...with, uh, what was his name? Jason, was it?”

“What about him?”

“Well, how’s it going with him? Last I heard you were trying to get a job at a Mexican restaurant to impress him. Did it work?”

Shawn chuckled, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice. He’d pulled her into his bedroom at his high school graduation party to tell her (in a high, cracked voice that he preferred to forget), but talking about boys with her always felt strange. Like he was a teenager again, skipping nervously around the topic of dating.

“Not really. The place closed down. Some nonsense about there being too many rats in the kitchen.”

He could almost hear her wrinkling her nose with amusement over the phone. “Very attractive.”

They fell into silence for a minute. He finally found the pasta pot and was filling it with water when she spoke again and reminded him of the _other_ reason he avoided talking about his dates with her.

“So, Shawn...have you considered telling your father? I mean, you do live in the same city as him again. It’s not a bad opportunity…”

“Mom…” his mouth went dry as it always did when he considered the prospect. He could never be sure of what the reaction would be, which was part of what made him so nervous. Most of the time, he figured it would be another bullet point on the list of disappointments he’d racked up in Henry’s book.

“I know it can’t be easy, so I don’t want to push you. But I just...I really think you should tell him.”

“I will, Mom. But not right now.”

“Okay.” She dropped the subject and they chatted for a few more minutes while he finished making dinner. When they hung up and he looked around his empty apartment again, the bare walls seemed a little less harsh. He could hang up anything he wanted, after all.

* * *

“...So I’m not gay, but I’m not straight either. It’s like I’ve invented a whole new thing!”

“It’s called being bisexual, Shawn, and it’s hardly new. In fact, psychologists have been using the word since as far back as the 1890s.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. How could you not know that?”

“Not all of us went to college, Gus”

“You went to LA Pride four years ago! The poster is literally on the wall in the office bathroom.”

“It was for work! I wasn’t taking _notes_!”

“Whatever. You didn’t have to tell me, you know I’ve known forever.”

“I know you have, buddy. Just felt good to say it out loud.”

* * *

Shawn made a beeline for Juliet’s desk when he entered the station. The quick once-over he always gave her yielded information that made him pause, then double his pace towards her.

“Fancy shoes, blazer thrown on over last night’s dress, let me guess: walk of shame?” Juliet rolled her eyes and crossed her arms but didn’t deny the observation. No one else seemed to have noticed, or if they did, they didn’t say anything; the station was business as usual.

Shawn should have kept his mouth shut, but he found words flying out of his mouth before he had time to consider the consequences. At least his voice had the courtesy of speaking slightly softer than he’d been before.

“But I’m sensing...something off….I’m seeing...high heels? And...makeup, red lipstick, now that’s strange--”

Juliet burst into loud, fake laughter and said to the entire precinct, “Shawn, that’s ridiculous! Why would I have _four_ dogs?” as she grabbed him by the arm.

No sooner was the door to the evidence locker shut than her finger was in his face.

“How the hell did you know?”

“The spirits, Jules. I can’t help what they tell me.” This time, he wished the spirits had been a little quieter. Her face was still scrunched up in panic when she spoke again.

“Please don’t tell anyone. I mean, not that I think anyone would be weird about it, it’s just…”

“It’s all new and you’re not sure about it yourself? And you don’t want to make a huge deal about it, because you don’t think it’s a big deal, but other people might.”

Her eyebrows lifted slightly from the staunch position they’d taken and she leaned back slightly. “That was...strangely accurate. Yeah.”

“I won’t tell anyone. I promise. I know how...delicate this kind of thing can be.” Her expression shifted from open fear to confusion; it was a start.

“What do you mean? And, for that matter, how’d you get it so right?” He wasn’t sure he could pass this one off to the spirits, not after he’d spoken so obviously from experience.

“Ieeyyyy...sortaaa--” Juliet cut him off before he could drag any more words out longer than necessary.

“Shawn, if you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to. It’s, well, pretty persona--”

“I’m bi. Bisexual, that is. Not bivalvous, like a mollusc. Although that would be pretty amazing. Except, what kind of valve would--”

“Shawn.”

He stopped babbling. She put her hands on his shoulders. “Thank you for telling me. And for not telling anyone else about--”

“Janice?” She smiled for the first time all morning.

“Janet. Close, though.”

“Oh well. The spirits can’t be right all the time.” He winked and pushed the door open, gesturing for her to exit. Juliet tucked the tag of the other woman’s blazer under the collar as she walked back to her desk.

* * *

“So who’s your guy?” Lassiter asked.

“The one in the corner. Brown hair, toned, tall but not too tall. Clean-shaven. Tasteful but not overwhelming eyeshadow.”

“What’d he do?”

“So far all he’s done is smile and wave a little. Think he’s shy?”

Lassiter paused. He was used to Shawn’s jokes, but he was also used to the fact that he rarely overlooked an opportunity to talk about a case.

“Spencer, why are you here?”

“For now? To buy that handsome gentleman over there a drink. We’ll see how the night goes from there.”

He’d glanced at Lassiter a few times out of the corner of his eye, leaning back against the bar in an attempt to seem casual. Lassiter could see the sharp edge of the counter digging into Shawn’s back.

“Are you telling me you’re here on personal...business?”

“If by ‘business’ you mean the business of getting laid, then yes.” He licked his lips and refused to look back at Lassiter.

“At a gay bar.”

“Really? That’s what this is? I thought every other bar in Santa Barbara was having ladies’ night tonight.” Lassiter barely heard his voice crack over the music, but he knew he hadn’t imagined it.

“Sorry.”

“What?” Lassiter sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the bar.

“Don’t make me say it again.”

Shawn finally leaned forward and spun his barstool around so they were facing the same direction. “I won’t, as long as you explain.”

He spent a few seconds trying to catch the bartender’s eye and gave up when Lassiter spoke again. “I didn’t know. I can only imagine you didn’t want it to--er, come out like this, I guess.”

Shawn snorted at his choice of words. “Didn’t know wh--oh my god, really? Dude, I’ve been hitting on you since we met! How did you not notice?”

Lassiter slammed his hands down on the bar and stared at Shawn. “You...what?”

“Relax, I only had a little crush on you in the beginning. After that I just wanted to see how long it’d take for you to notice. Did you really think I was just joking the whole time?”

“Yes? Everything is a joke to you.”

“Fair enough.”

Lassiter exhaled quietly and tried to gather his thoughts around the many revelations that he’d just been given. The first, in hindsight, wasn’t as big a surprise as he’d initially thought it to be. The last two, on the other hand--

“I dated a guy for eight months and you couldn’t tell? For a head detective you’re not very observant.”

“Hey, my observation skills are--wait, eight months? Who?”

“Jake! The guy we met on that perfume store case. Oh my god, I brought him to the station at least twice a month! How did you not know? Juliet was practically planning our wedding!”

Lassiter perched stiffly on the stool and tried to figure out if the bartender was laughing at them. He certainly wasn’t serving them in any case.

“Do I look like the kind of man who makes it his business to know about his coworkers’ personal lives?”

“No, Lassie, you look like the kind of man who works out nine hours a week and then says ‘oh, not really’ when someone asks you if you work out.”

“What the hell--”

“Your guy just went to the bathroom, by the way. All he’s done all night is check his cell phone without talking to anyone, which kind of defeats the purpose of coming here, wouldn’t you say?”

“Damnit,” Lassiter muttered, and without a backward glance slid off the barstool and tailed his suspect.

Shawn finally caught the bartender’s attention and ordered two drinks. He grabbed them and headed towards the man in the corner, trying to come up with something better to lead with than “You come here often?”

* * *

“Just once? Please, Gus, it doesn’t have to be for more than 5 seconds, you can even time me--”

“Five seconds is longer than you think when you’re that close.” He hadn’t technically said ‘no’ yet.

“You would literally be fulfilling my biggest childhood fantasy--”

“Your biggest childhood fantasy was making out with me? That’s sad, Shawn.”

“Okay, well, second biggest aside from writing ‘ho ho ho’ on a mannequin and sending it down an empty elevator to a roomful of terrorists--”

“--Never gonna happen--”

“--Exactly! Which is why I didn’t count it as my first. Come on, dude, I know you’re straight enough that it won’t change anything.”

“You know that’s right.” Gus shuffled closer, still leaning back slightly against his desk. “I always thought that if I were to do anything with a man, it would be Emilio Estevez.”

“Emilio Estevez? C’mon, man, that’s weak. That’s entry-level. Couldn’t you at least have gone for--” he was cut off when Gus wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and kissed him. He shut his eyes immediately and breathed out quietly through his nose. Neither of them were moving, just holding their position with their mouths touching and Shawn’s hand pressed against Gus’ waist.

“Did you just moan?” Gus said when he pulled away.

“Mmh,” was Shawn’s only response.

“If you try to come on to me after this, just know that it’s never gonna work.”

“Oh I won’t, buddy, believe me. You’re not my type. I just wanted to cross that one off the bucket list.”

“Are you serious? All that and I’m not even your type?”

“I don’t understand. Do you want to be?” They continued bickering all the way out to the car, and Shawn would occasionally run his thumb over his lower lip and smile. 

* * *

He hadn’t wanted to do it this way. He’d always imagined coming out to his dad casually, dropping a joke about a boyfriend or crush in the middle of a conversation.

Ten years of jokes later, his dad remained adamantly convinced his son was still straight. So now he had to turn it into a special episode of Degrassi. At least he had the dignity not to rehearse what he was going to say beforehand.

“What do you need this time, Shawn?” His dad asked before the door was even fully open. He briefly considered making up a case before he realized that it would be too spectacular and he’d get distracted thinking about how to catch a thief-turned-double murderer who had two million dollars of stolen cash stashed somewhere.

If only.

“No case this time, mi padre. But if I did, I can tell you right now it would be amazing.” He waited expectantly and Henry finally let him in.

There was a football game on TV, of course, and Henry sat down on the couch once he entered the living room. Shawn stayed standing. After a few seconds of silence, he realized that he should be the one to initiate the conversation since _he_ had been the one who showed up unexpectedly.

“Dad, I kind of--well, there’s something I think you should know, and, uh, it’s probably a long time coming, but...well…” he briefly regretted not at least thinking beforehand of how to phrase it as he trailed off in the face of Henry’s silence. He’d muted the TV and looked at Shawn, but otherwise seemed unimpressed.

Shawn tried to swallow but found his mouth too dry. Why was he still standing? He threw himself down on the couch next to his father; immediately, his left foot started tapping impatiently.

“It’s like, well, you know how…you know how I sort of, uh, did some stuff, that probably seemed like it was just to piss you off, and a lot of it was! Just to piss you off, that is, but…” he trailed off again. He couldn’t sit still anymore, so he stood up and paced the few steps between the couch and the TV.

“Some of that stuff, it wasn’t just about you, y’know? It was also about me. I mean, I guess what I’m saying is…”

“Shawn, is this the part where you tell me you’re dating a man?”

He stopped at the corner of the coffee table closest to the couch. His arms hung weakly by his sides and his mouth was slightly open. Henry was looking up at him, face impassive, no hint of warmth or disappointment. It was frustratingly familiar.

“Well, I’m not actually seeing anyone at the moment, so this man would really be hypothetical, more of a plausibility than a boyfriend--”

“Sit down, kid.” Too surprised to resist, he sat.

“Your mother and I have known--”

“Is that how you knew? Did mom tell you?”

“What? No! You told her before you told me?” He saw Shawn start to object and cut him off. “Look, no, that’s not the point. The point is, I figured it out a while ago.”

Shawn raised his eyebrows and tilted his head forward.

“ _That’s_ the point?”

“Well, yeah, I mean, your nostrils would flare slightly every time I asked if you had a girlfriend, there was that period when you’d talk about your dates without using any pronouns, you kept bringing up gay rights despite the fact that you sounded nervous as hell talking about it, plus when you were 14 anyone could see your crush on Jean-Claude van Damme from a mile away.”

Shawn rubbed the back of his neck; it felt unnaturally cold. He wasn’t sure if the dull twist to his stomach was relief or anger. He scoffed. “This is so typical. I’m not looking to get analyzed here, Dad. Can’t you just say I’m still your son no matter what and then go back to watching the game?”

He leaned sideways into the couch and crossed his arms, gripping the sleeves of his shirt to keep his fingers from shaking.

To his surprise, Henry leaned forward and put a hand on his bicep. “You’re still my son no matter what. Thank you for telling me, Shawn. It means a lot that you trust me enough to tell me this.”

He leaned back and unmuted the TV. Shawn turned away so his father wouldn’t see him smile.

**Author's Note:**

> a few things:  
> 1) i realize it's kind of OOC/doesn't fit with the timeline for shawn to be with someone for eight months, but i found the idea of lassie overlooking it for so long too funny to resist  
> 2) i'm not a huge fan of the "we've known you weren't straight all along" coming out scene, mostly because it makes the person coming out look silly for being afraid to come out, even tho there are obviously reasons to be anxious. that being said, i feel like there's no way henry wouldn't have noticed and there's no way he could resist letting shawn know that he knew. i hope i managed to get the right tone across  
> 3) did you guys know lassie is actually confirmed pan?? https://twitter.com/psychwrites/status/12603936587


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